Last Day of Class

Today was our last day of classroom work for the gardening program I have been attending. We have to take a test next week on the material we have learned these past nine weeks in order to pass the course. The point of the whole process is to train people to promote gardening in our community and to be a resource for home gardeners. Before we are allowed to start the next phase of the program, we have to demonstrate an understanding of the classroom training, by passing a test.

There is a sizable portion of the class, lead by The World's Foremost Expert (TWFE), that is seriously worried about their ability to pass the thing. TWFE isn't personally worried about passing, mind you, but she is worried for all the little people. I'm pretty sure that they have planned some type of study group this week. Sounds like fun.

My attitude about tests in general and this one in particular, is that I either learned the important points by listening and reading the material or I didn't. If that isn't good enough to pass the test, oh well. Besides, you only need a 70% to pass. I got a 75% on the pre-course test, so I think I will be okay.

I've already had the opportunity to learn a lot about gardening from real live experts in the field, so pass or fail, I've benefited. Worse case, I am deemed unfit for public interaction and am out of my obligation to give back to the program. Guys who negotiate for a living call this a happy-happy scenario. No matter how it turns out, I'm happy.

The only downside to this whole deal is that I found out today that they expect me to work at the garden center every Thursday morning for a couple of hours. My golf day is Thursday, so I'm not sure how this will play out. Maybe I will be able to talk the Seafood King and Some Guy Named Bob into playing golf at 11:00 am or so and I can work on my assignment at the gardens until ten-ish.

I posted something about my ne'er-do-well son Cletus yesterday. In the course of talking to him the other night I asked if his cell phone had been shut off, because he quit calling me on it. Usually, he gets shut off for non-payment. He swore it hadn't been turned off, but that the phone itself was broken. He told me to call his voice mail if I didn't believe him. Of course, I did.

When I called his phone, it went to voice mail immediately and was answered by the most interesting message. His message says that he will be gone from our fair city for several weeks and will not be available to return calls. Oh, that it was true.

I suspect that the little jack-a-loon is hiding out from someone and that his broken phone story is simply a ruse to avoid being found.






Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky